"Happy Birthday. You know, the lawn's not gonna cut itself." - Red, That 70's Show

 

The Boy’s highway design. Notice the right turn from the left lane? And the center lane can turn right or left, but the left lane can only go forward? He must work for TXDOT.

It’s nearly time for The Boy to assume all the responsibilities of . . . a seven year old. The Boy will be deliriously wiping icing out of his hair and entering the sugar-high zone tomorrow. His list of wants are as small (and odd) as I’ve ever heard of. He wants:

a watch,
a pair of binoculars,
walkie-talkies, and
Ghosthunters™ DVDs.

I was going to add that The Boy wants Paris Hilton to stay away from all cameras and media forever, but, that was really my wish. My birthday’s coming up soon, and you know what I’ll be wishing for when the zillions of candles set off the smoke detector.

I give The Boy a hard time about his age. The Boy (wisely) wants no part of growing up at this point. If I joke that he will be, say, 17 or 70 instead of seven, it makes him nearly as angry as John McCain, which is very angry, indeed.

So, The Boy has a list of things he wants, but they’re unusual. For the longest time he lobbied for an infrared camera, and only gave up asking for one when I pointed out that one would cost more than my car. At that point The Boy reluctantly relented and gave up on that idea, but not after putting a 4-SAIL, CHEEP (WIL TRAD 4 INFRARED CAMERA) sign on my car.

Despite my refusal to purchase an infrared camera for him, The Boy has adjusted well to Texas, perhaps the best of all of the Wilder family. The Boy loves the climate, loves his school, and loves our house. The Mrs. and I pine for the long dark nights of brutally cold winter, yet The Boy wants to live in a semi-tropical paradise. What’s the matter with that kid?

Tomorrow, though, paradise or not, he turns seven. Which is nice, because as he grows older he’s ever so much more interesting. He’s finally reached the point that when I call home to talk to The Mrs. during the course of a business day, he’ll answer and we can have long talks about most anything.

The Boy’s goal at this point in his life is to see a ghost, and he doesn’t count the remnants of Corey Feldman’s career as ghost-like enough.

Mainly, The Boy is a happy, goofy kid who does pretty well on his spelling tests.

Good enough. No hurry to get to 17.